


Drinking Buddies

by golden_ratio



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Vikings (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Crossover, Drinking & Talking, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 12:16:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4435151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/golden_ratio/pseuds/golden_ratio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire and Athelstan are drinking, arguing over which of their blonde boyfriends is prettier/better in bed/etc. Antics ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drinking Buddies

**Author's Note:**

> i found this gem buried in my google drive, it was originally written in march of 2013. the only thing i edited was the formatting, everything else has been preserved in its original glory. i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed finding it again.

"Attractive blondes are the worst, aren't they?" Grantaire commented as he downed another beer. He didn't expect much of a response from the mostly silent monk sitting across from him.

Athelstan merely nodded, eying the beer. He seemed to be in a state of deep contemplation. After what could only have been an internal struggle —there's no way those sort of facial expressions were normal— he finally grabbed an unopened bottle.

"What's yours like?" Grantaire prodded, no way this Ragnar was more tortuous than Enjolras and his blinding beauty that Grantaire was forced to witness daily.

"He's...strong." Athelstan was much more concerned with opening the beer at that moment.

Grantaire laughed. "There's gotta be more to it than that. Otherwise you wouldn't be here. Example: Enjolras is so fucking pretty that he very much resembles a marble statue. And he likes to  _dominate_  in bed like you wouldn't believe."

Athelstan's face at this point had turned quite red. The beer abandoned in front of him, he sighed. "I thought him a barbarian at first. But he proved to be kinder than I ever expected. The first time he and his wife invited me to bed, I was less than enthusiastic."

He paused there, remembering the moment and shuddering a little.

"The  _first_  time?" Grantaire asked, hoping this would encourage the other to continue.

Athelstan cleared his throat. "Over time, I..I grew fond of them. It is hard not to admire his physique. He tried to invite me to bed many more times, and it became difficult to refuse. So, the next time he asked, I indulged. It was sinful and blasphemous, but it was like nothing I had ever experienced before."

Grantaire had a stupid grin plastered across his face. "Enjolras is hotter," he remarked.

Athelstan gave the drunkard a look. "If you are trying to instigate a fight, it will not work."

"I'm only stating the facts."

"Then I politely disagree," came the retort, "There are no other men like Ragnar."

Grantaire snorted. "You can find musclemen anywhere. The intellectual ones are harder to get."

Athelstan's eye twitched ever so slightly, and Grantaire grinned, knowing he'd managed to push the right button. The monk abruptly rose from his seat to lean across the table.

"Ragnar is the opposite of stupid. Enjolras can't be as fantastic as you say, if he even exists."

It was Grantaire's turn to push his chair away and lean forward to meet Athelstan's glare.

"Enjolras is perfection in every way. I would never make that up."

Their voices were rising as they continued trying to one-up each other, whether it be with descriptions of the blond men's beauty or specific details of sexual exploits or anything in between. Nothing was off-limits. At some point, Athelstan silently thanked God they were somewhere private.

“Ragnar walks around the house naked!  He’s constantly taunting me with his body on display like that!  How can you know Enjolras’ perfection if you cannot see his body?”

“I’ll have you know that if Enjolras removed his clothes at any time his perfectly sculpted body would melt your face.  I, of course, can endure it.”

“That is physically impossible,” Athelstan remarked.  He found this entire argument pointless, but there was no way to stop now.  He would not admit defeat.

“How would you know?  God sometimes creates specimens of such beauty that they are not meant to be viewed by human eyes.”

In the midst of their shouting, the two had obviously forgotten that the walls were not soundproof.  Someone had heard their little spat and had taken the liberty to inform aforementioned man of marble that his “drunk friend was yelling about something again.”  So Enjolras had dragged himself down there to see what the hell was going on.

What he found was Grantaire and some other man arguing very loudly about the attractiveness of- wait, did he hear his name?  

At some point, Athelstan became aware of another’s presence in the room.  He stopped mid-sentence and stared at the newcomer.  The man was gorgeous in a completely different way than Ragnar.  He gulped.  If this was Enjolras, then he could see what Grantaire was fussing about.

Grantaire, meanwhile, was comparing Enjolras to Apollo and various other Greek figures.  He didn’t even seem to notice that Athelstan was now speechless.

Enjolras had no idea how to react to any of this.  And since Grantaire had failed to notice him enter the room, he opted to clear his throat instead of saying anything.

Grantaire shut his mouth, slowly turned, and found exactly who he expected to see.  “Well shit,” he muttered.  He put on the most innocent smile that he could manage.  “‘Evening Enjolras.”

"Care to explain?"

Grantaire looked from Athelstan, who was staring with his mouth agape, to Enjolras and considered his options. Well, Enjolras was going to get pissed either way, so he might as well tell the truth, if only to see the other's expression.

"I was telling Athelstan here that there's no way his boyfriend is prettier than you. He didn't believe me, though he might now."

Athelstan had shut his mouth by this point, but he was still openly staring.

Enjolras pinched the bridge of his nose.  “I really wish you would stop doing this..”  Grantaire seemed to have made a sport out of arguments like this.  This was not the first time Enjolras had caught him in some drunken stupor yelling comparisons between him and Greek gods.  He’d even gone so far as to say Enjolras had been carved by angels.

“Don’t be that way, Apollo,” Grantaire grinned from ear to ear, knowing that Enjolras loathed that nickname.

Athelstan now inserted himself into the conversation.  “If I might interject, you two obviously have things to discuss, so I’ll just go...”

“Fine, but you’ll miss the fun~” Grantaire wriggled his eyebrows suggestively, causing Enjolras to turn a rather alarming shade of red.

Now Athelstan was obviously no stranger to threesome invites, he knew one when he heard it.  He gulped and considered his options.

Well...Ragnar and Lagertha would most likely approve...

When Athelstan made no move to leave, Grantaire turned to Enjolras, who had managed to calm down enough for his cheeks to return to a normal color.

Grantaire raised an eyebrow.  “Do you permit it?”  This question was met with a swift punch to the shoulder and an annoyed “fuck you.”

“I would, but since you’re here-”

Enjolras cut him off with a kiss and practically dragged Grantaire out the door.  “You too, Athelstan,” Enjolras called behind him.

Athelstan obeyed, following the odd couple. 

* * *

Athelstan relayed this whole tale later to Ragnar and Lagertha.  They were more amused than anything else.  But they did feel the need to remind him of why he had broken his vows in the first place.

And remind him they did.


End file.
